


A Tapestry

by Nerves



Series: Snapshots from Life in the Castle of the Crystal [2]
Category: The Dark Crystal: Age of Resistance (TV)
Genre: Agender Character, Alien Biology, Alien Gender/Sexuality, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dom/sub Undertones, Mildly Dubious Consent, Mommy Issues, Non-Human Genitalia, Other, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Touching, Trans Female Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-17
Updated: 2019-10-17
Packaged: 2020-10-24 06:41:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20701610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nerves/pseuds/Nerves
Summary: A delayed meeting with skekSil leads to another one of the lords finding Seladon in the more secluded hallways of the castle.





	A Tapestry

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! Here's another little installment for the Castle of the Crystal AU. This one will either be two or three parts, depending on how the next chapter goes. I'm going to continue to keep this story pretty freeform as far as timelines and all of that. There _is_ an overarching plot, but it's mostly about the emotionally horny (and regular horny) moments. The rating will probably go up to E, but for the mean time I'm leaving it at M. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this!
> 
> Also shout out to Moogle for proofreading this, coming up with this AU with me, and just generally being supportive throughout this whole process. I appreciate your enabling of my bastardry.

Seladon pulls her robes tighter around herself as she shudders in the cold air of the tunnel, apprehension and irritation creeping up her spine in equal measure. She has not seen another being for ages, desolate as the tunnels on this level are. She glances behind her for the third time in as many minutes, casting her gaze about for that large, robed figure. SkekSil was supposed to meet her here half an hour ago. He often leaves her waiting, which she finds endlessly frustrating, but there is little she can do about it. He is her only ally here, and as much as he irritates her she knows better than to throw a fit about it. Nevertheless, the longer she stands in that cold tunnel, the more she can feel her patience evaporating. 

For what is far from the first time, Seladon wonders why she is even here. The Chamberlain had taken her under his wing many months ago - which she had appreciated at the time - but she often ponders if he truly is the best ally to have among the lords. Cunning though he is, he has an inclination for mischief that makes her uneasy. Not that the point much matters - none of the other lords will so much as speak to her. They see her as nothing more than a curious tithe, there to be gawked at on occasion.

She hears the shuffle of robes and taloned feet moving down the hallway, and she lets out an exasperated sigh. _Finally._ “It is very rude to keep a princess waiting, my-” Her words catch in her throat as she turns and sees not skekSil as she had been expecting, but rather a different large and gaunt frame cloaked in layers upon layers of robes. “My lord!” She dips into a bow before skekSo, averting her gaze from him and staring down at the ground while her cheeks burn. How embarrassing! He certainly heard her tone and her words, and even if they had not been intended for him it was still terribly rude to speak to a lord of the crystal in such a manner.

“What are you doing down here, princess?” His tone is not scolding as she had anticipated, but rather surprised. She dares to look up at him, and finds that his face similarly wears an expression of surprise rather than anger. She stands up straight once more, but still keeps her head tilted down.

“I…” She hesitates. She does not want to tell the Emperor that she was waiting for skekSil, but she is not about to lie to him. Her regular visits with the Chamberlain are something she does not feel proud of, and though she is aware that skekSo knows of them, she still does not want to bring attention to them. As the seconds tick by, he is still staring down at her and she knows that she must answer. “I was waiting for the Chamberlain, my lord,” she says finally, looking away from him once more. “He was supposed to meet me here quite some time ago, but he has not shown his face yet." She glances back at him to find that he's narrowed his eyes at her, something curious in his pale eyes framed by paler lashes. That look is a strange one, and she feels a tad bit nervous as she sees it.

"The Chamberlain is currently… indisposed," he says in an odd voice, fingers tapping curiously against his staff. Her attention is caught by the movement, and she finds herself looking at those long digits where they curl around it. They're long, taloned things, covered in blood red gloves and rings, gaunt and severe like the rest of him. Seladon swallows, and looks back to his face, past those pale, pale lashes. _Beautiful_ like the rest of him. "I doubt that he will be meeting with you." She _would_ be furious, but this is the most that the Emperor has ever spoken to her in a single encounter, and she can't help but have all thoughts be overwhelmed by the fluttering in her gut.

"I see," she says a little dumbly, uncertain of where to go from here. "I... suppose I'll return to my chambers then." She feels a pang of disappointment at her own words. It is not for the loss of time spent with skekSil, nor for the solitude - it is for the time wasted, and being made to look a fool.

"Why did skekSil have you waiting for him here?" he asks suddenly. Seladon gnaws nervously on her lip for a moment before answering.

"I was to... spend the evening with him in his chambers, my lord." The meaning of her words is clear enough, and skekSo narrows his eyes and nods as humiliation creeps up her spine.

"Ah, yes. He has mentioned your friendship to me." There's that word again - _friendship_. Seladon has never truly had friends, and so who is she to question skekSil calling what they have by such a name?

"I see," she says for lack of something better. A thick moment of awkward silence follows as she glances down the tunnel from which she came before looking back to the Emperor. "Well, I should start walking then before it becomes too much later." She bows to him, eyes fluttering shut. "I wish you a pleasant evening, my lord." She stands up straight and begins to turn when his voice cuts through the air once more.

"Would you like to come to my chambers?"

The words cause her to freeze, the fur on her back and arms raising. Heat creeps up from her neck to her face, thick under the collar of her dress. She looks up at him, into those beautiful pale eyes, her cheeks red. SkekSo looks down at her with a gaze that she cannot even begin to unravel, even with the knowledge of skeksis expressions that she has gained from the other lords.

"Are you… asking for my _friendship_, my lord?" She asks. A smile curls at the corners of his large, terrifying mouth.

"If you wish to call it such," he says simply. Her tail swishes underneath her dress, and she balls her hands into fists around the fabric.

"I… would very much like to be your friend, wise Emperor." Speaking such a thing aloud makes her feel dizzy. Is this really happening? He rumbles out a low _hmm_, and she feels it in her belly.

"Come, princess," he says, and she realizes that he's holding out a taloned hand towards hers. "Walk with me." Her heart hammers, and she takes a shaky breath before slipping her hand into his. He raises a brow, seemingly in surprise, and Seladon's face burns hot.

"I'm sorry, my lord," she says as she goes to pull her hand back - but he clasps his bony fingers down on hers tight, a grip that leaves no room for argument. His snout is pressed into a firm line, but she swears she can see amusement twinkling in his eyes as he looks down at her. He leads her away then, down one of the many tunnels from which she is forbidden.

\--

Seladon’s heart races in her chest as she follows the Emperor through an ornately decorated door into a room that glows a warm orange. As she steps inside, the chamber is smaller than she had expected, although it still feels huge to a gelfling like her. She can feel skekSo’s eyes burning on her back as she steps through, watching her with a cold calculation that chills her nearly as much as it excites her. The room is well furnished and packed with all sorts of odds and ends, the sort of room that one would certainly assume belongs to a creature that is over a thousand trine old. The cloths and tapestries are magnificent, rich with colors and patterns that dazzle the eyes, all sorts of shiny trinkets hanging from various wooden structures around the space. There are many places to sit, she is surprised to see, and nearly all of them have atop them a well-worn nest of pillows and blankets that look terribly inviting.

And then, of course, there’s the bed.

Similarly piled high with pillows and blankets and furs, it is an object far larger than should be in a room of this size, but still it seems inviting. She can see the nest in the middle, an indentation where something the size of the Emperor clearly sleeps.

The door latches shut behind her, and she has to hold in a gasp. She turns and looks to skekSo as he steps away from the door, pulling his hand back to his person. He still stares at her, pale eyes terrible and thrilling. She feels heat rising in her cheeks as she realizes that he is looking her over, taking in the sight of her in her dress. She stands a little straighter, puffing her chest out as she clasps her hands behind her back, smiling warmly at him. “I thank you again for your invitation, my lord,” she says, fingers curling nervously around each other. “Your chambers are lovely.” He crosses to one of the tables, pulling out a glass and a decanter from which he pours wine.

“Take off your clothes,” he commands gently but firmly before pouring wine from his glass into his mouth. Seladon’s heart leaps, and she feels the heat in her cheeks pool lower.

“M-my lord?” she manages to stutter out while he swallows, looking at her with that same expression.

“Do you need to be told a second time?” He does not quite snap at her, but there is no mistaking his tone. Seladon gasps, pauses for a short moment, and then shakes her head.

“No, my lord. Of course not.” She lifts her hands to her collar, hesitating as she watches him take another sip of his wine, and then begins to undo the fasteners. It’s as she fumbles with her buttons that she realizes how terribly her hands are shaking. She chides herself internally for being little better than a scared childling before the Emperor, all of her normal confidence sapped away by her desire for his approval. How disappointed her mother would be to see her so small before him.

She pushes her shoulders back as she slides the unbuttoned dress off of her body, feeling a momentary panic as it snags on her prosthetic wings before falling to the ground. If skekSo notices the small hiccup, he says nothing of it and simply continues to watch her closely, finger scratching idly on the wood surface of the table. It is warmer than in the hallways outside, but she feels a chill as she stands in her chemise, hardened nipples straining against the soft fabric. She pauses for a moment, meeting skekSo’s gaze. She swears that she can see a flash of annoyance at her hesitation, but it is gone before she can truly decipher it. “Do you wish for me to remove my boots as well?” she asks carefully, and his gaze falls to her paws. He hesitates for a moment before looking back up at her face.

“Everything,” he says, and it rumbles through her groin. She shudders and nods her head solemnly.

“As you wish, my lord.” Crouching down, she swiftly unlaces her boots and steps out of them, pushing them off to the side. Standing up straight once again, she avoids meeting his gaze as she slips her shift off of her shoulders, the thin fabric sliding much more easily down as the back sits below her wing mounts. Had she ever imagined that this is how it would be, living in the Castle of the Crystal? Standing nude before a skeksis? She looks up at him, cheeks pink.

Not just _any_ skeksis.

SkekSo sets his goblet down on the table, silent as he watches her. This is how gelfling once were when the lords first came to Thra, bare save for the patches of fur over their small forms. The skeksis had taught them the error of their ways, taught them to feel shame in their nakedness - and yet, as Seladon watches the way that his eyes roam over her body, lingering on her rows of nipples and the slight protrusion of her phallus poking out from the top of her slit, the only thing she can feel is a sense of pride.

“Your wings too.”

She feels her stomach drop. She had been taught not to feel ashamed of her gender, or of the fact that she needs prosthetics, but her mother’s looks had always been louder than her words. She takes in a sharp breath. “My lord-”

“SkekSil told me,” he cuts her off, lacing his long fingers together. “I cannot smell it myself, but the Chamberlain has told me all about you.” Somehow, her cheeks feel even hotter. “There is no shame in it. We skeksis do not care about the petty distinctions that gelfling bind themselves with.” She feels her heart flutter, the smallest smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

“I know, my lord,” she says, the end of her tail flicking nervously. “I was going to say that with the way that my mounts work, I cannot remove them by myself.” To illustrate her point, she turns to show him her back, bending her arm behind to try to reach the release while her wings twitch idly with her effort. Looking over her shoulder at him, she sees his brows raise as he watches, and then looks back to her face once more.

“Ah.” His tone is soft enough, no hint of displeasure. She does smile properly at that. “Very well then. Leave them on.” She flicks her tail happily, shutting her eyes and nodding in deference to him. He’s much closer when she looks back up again, and she almost takes a step back. He is so terribly tall, and standing so close only makes him seem bigger. He reaches his hand out for her again, palm up, and this time she does not hesitate to take it. The far edges of his mouth seem to curl in amusement.

He leads her over to one of the tables, something that sits at his hips and her chin. "Up," he says as he looks down at her. There is a footstool right next to the table which would assist with her climb, but she opts instead to spread her wings and use them to push herself into the air, her paws landing softly on the surface of the table upon her brief descent. Back still to him, she looks over her shoulder once more to smirk slyly at him. His eyes twinkle in amusement, but he says nothing of it and simply turns his attention to her body. "Look at the tapestry in front of you." Seladon never liked being commanded, but the way he does it is so soft, so kind, it makes her feel warm and tingly.

She looks ahead at the tapestry. It's mostly made up of patterns, the colors bright and rich, gold upon a field of deep green. She can hear something rustling behind her, the whisper of cloth against skin, and her heart beats faster. There are threads of dark blue running alongside the gold, and more threads that are the color of the sky at the first brother's zenith weave between them, stitched into a delicate pattern. She gasps as she feels his bare taloned hands curl around her hips, sinking into her soft flesh. His touch sends a jolt of heat surging down her spine, moving straight through her slit. He's not pulling her, but still she feels so very unsteady all of a sudden. His hands slide down her hips, thumbs curving over her buttocks on their way to her thighs. Her slit feels like it's on fire, her cock growing hard - all from a simple touch. "Are you looking at it?" he asks in a low purr, and her eyes snap open. When had she closed them? She stares at the tapestry again, and she swears the colors seem bluer.

"Yes, my lord," she says, voice breathier than she meant. He hums in approval, and continues tracing his fingers down her legs. She stares at the tapestry, eyes focusing on the shapes in the threads although her mind is elsewhere, captivated by the feeling of his claws in her fur as he reaches her calves. In the patterns she swears that she can see writing, although they are letters to an alphabet that she does not know. She had never spent as much time in the library as Brea - truly, had anyone? - but she knows enough to know it was no gelfling tongue. She shivers as he slides his claws back up, scratching lightly and never breaking the skin. The words were the _lords’_ tongue. 

His hands slip onto her hips and hold her steady as she can hear him leaning forward, his breath ghosting over her wing mounts. She cannot help the small sound that escapes her lips. The room is cold, but she can barely tell with the heat in her skin and his hands on her. He purrs out a soft chuckle, and then inhales deeply, taking in her scent. The blues in the tapestry intensify still, and the strange letters seem almost to twist into figures, life breathed into them by the Emperor. _Magnificent._

“Hm? What was that?” The sound of skekSo’s voice is surprising, and she realizes with a rush of embarrassment that she had said the word aloud.

“I said it’s magnificent, my lord,” she says, holding her voice as steady as she can as she feels his claws circling into the fur on her pubis. “The tapestry.” He lets out a contemplative hum.

“Just the tapestry?” he asks pointedly, claws scraping down along follicles, towards where her cock is starting to emerge. She whimpers as they move along either side of her slit, pulling moisture from within her. Still she stands steady, her fists clenching at her side.

“No,” she says softly. “Not just the tapestry.” He hums again, and pulls his hands away. She nearly makes another sound at the loss of contact, but as he pulls back he speaks again.

“Turn around.” She nearly makes herself dizzy with how quickly she obeys, but she holds her expression as relaxed and neutral as she can. Those pale eyes are staring into hers, and she has to make an effort not to shrink back from them. He says nothing, just reaches for her again and places his fingertips in the center of her chest. She inhales, exhales, and tries not to shake as she looks down at his hand. His fingers are long and elegant, thin. His advanced age is apparent in the soft, wrinkled skin stretched thin over the bones of his digits. How regal those pale hands are, how beautiful upon her skin and fur. They are worthy of worship.

Seladon reaches up before she realises what she’s doing and wraps her much smaller hands around his. His gaze darts up to hers once more, an edge in it. She exhales, soft and shuddering. “May I, Emperor?” she asks, her voice unusually sweet, thick with desire like honey. He blinks those pale, pale lashes, and she feels his hand relaxing under hers as a form of acquiesence. She smiles, and leads his hand upwards towards her mouth. She looks down at his fingers again, taking in the shape of his talons curling prettily from the ends of them. A skeksis is a much different kind of creature from a gelfling, gorgeous and terrifying in equal measure.

At least, Seladon has always seen them that way.

She wraps her lips around the place where his talon meets his skin on his middle finger, her eyes darting up to look into his once more. He does not look away from her gaze as she sucks lightly on his talon, tongue running idly along the underside of it. She realizes faintly that her heart is beating terribly fast, far faster than it should. He does not make a sound, but watches her with fascination - and somewhere in his eyes, arousal. She sucks harder, fingers brushing along the back of his hand, exhaling a breath from her nose to his knuckles, warm from her insides.

He purrs. She smiles around his finger. She knows well from her time with skekSil _exactly_ what that means.

His other hand rises into her peripheral vision, and she makes a small noise as he grabs her hair with one hand and pushes his finger in deeper with the other. More heat, more moisture from her slit. She feels it running down her legs. He sniffs idly, and she knows he can smell her. She moans, eyes fluttering shut as she sucks more ardently, his talon so very close to her throat, her fingertips dipping into the end of his sleeve, over the soft skin of his lovely wrist.

The sudden knock at the door startles her so badly that she jumps, but his hand in her hair holds her steady enough that his talon doesn't hit the back of her throat. A cold lump forms in her gut, and she stares wide-eyed at skekSo, who is still preoccupied with his finger on her tongue.

"Enter," he calls out, only faintly annoyed. The lump turns to panic at his words, and she has to make the decision of whether or not to cover herself when the door clicks open. She stands rigid, naked and on display, gaze darting towards the door. The Ritual-Master enters, his strangely triangular snout pressed into a severe expression. He looks surprised to see her for a moment, but then he focuses on his Emperor and she is all but forgotten.

"My sire, your presence is requested in the Scientist's lab," he says, his voice deep and soft. SkekSo lets out an idle hum, pulling his finger from Seladon's mouth. She feels a sense of relief and hopes that he will tell her to dress, but instead he runs his hand back down her chest, slicking a trail of her saliva through her fur. She had thought that it wasn't possible for her heart to beat faster, and yet it does as he trails between all three sets of her breasts, down towards her groin. _Surely he isn't…?_

"Tell skekTek that I'm busy," he rumbles, running his talon over the tip of her cock. She whimpers, weakly grasping the sleeves of his robes to hold herself steady. She is truly dizzy now, her body on fire and her mind reeling from the surreality of the situation.

"They were quite insistent that you come at once," skekZok says, eyes gaze falling to skekSo's hand as he slips his talon shallowly along the underside of her cock and into her slit. "They said that they have found the… solution." Seladon feels faint, dripping onto his finger and biting her lower lip to hold in a moan. Such a finger is dangerous, and yet she so badly wants it inside of her. His hand freezes at the Ritual-Master's words, and Seladon whimpers again.

"The solution?" he echoes. Seladon gets the sense that their conversation is a veiled one, a secret that she is not privy to - but it is hard to think about it when skekSo has his talon inside of her.

"Yes," skekZok says. Seladon looks to him, sees the way that his eyes roam over her nude form now, taking a faint interest in her. "They seem quite optimistic." SkekSo lets out a small bark of laughter and pulls his talon out of her. She exhales sharply.

"Very well," he says, lifting his hand to his mouth and releasing his grip on her hair. He licks her juices from his talon with his long, long tongue, and she can feel her legs quiver at the sight. "I will be out momentarily. Wait outside." SkekZok nods in deference.

"Yes, Emperor," he says, and backs out into the hall once more. The door latches shut behind him, and Seladon looks up at skekSo expectantly. His eyes meet hers, and she can see the smallest smirk tugging at the sides of his mouth.

"Go back to your chambers, princess," he commands gently, and Seladon feels her heart sink.

"My lord-"

"I will call on you later," he says, and she feels a flutter in her gut. She wants him _now_, not later, but his tone makes it clear that it's not an invitation for a debate. She gnaws at her lower lip for a moment before she bows her head to him, eyes closed.

"Yes, Emperor," she says, her echo of skekZok's words much softer and sweeter. She lets go of his robes and opens her eyes as she pulls back, moving towards the edge of the table. He watches her as she flutters to the ground, paws landing gently on the cold stone. She can feel his eyes still burning on her as she dresses, tying the laces of her boots as quickly as she can. He does not tell her to hurry with his words, but she feels it in his watchful gaze. She stands up straight and turns to him, unable to keep herself from shuddering in her cold clothes. He raises a brow at her.

"You're cold." He says it plainly, disinterested. Seladon flushes, nods.

"Yes," she says. "It is fine, I will be alright until I reach my chambers." He pays her words no mind, and simply crosses to one of the chairs piled high with blankets and pillows. Plucking a fur lined blanket from the nest, he swoops it elegantly towards her. Her heart is hammering again, her cheeks red, and she smiles warmly at him. "Thank you, my lord," she says, taking the blanket from him and twirling it around her shoulders. "You are very kind and generous." It is far too large for a creature of her size, and she scrunches up the ends in her hands to hold it closer. He simply grunts, offering her the smallest nod before he gestures towards the door with a swooping motion of his hand. She obeys his silent command and moves towards the door. SkekSo approaches fast behind her, opening it to let her out. The air outside in the hall is even colder, barely blocked by the tall frame of the Ritual Master (who looks down at her curiously before returning his attention to the Emperor) and she pulls the blanket more tightly around her.

The door latches shut once more, and she turns to the two skeksis, managing to catch their attention before they turn away. “I wish you a pleasant evening, my lords,” she says politely, dipping into a bow. The two of them mutter disinterested agreement towards her before they turn and begin walking down the hallway in the opposite direction.

“Was that the princess from Ha’rar?” she hears skekZok ask as they round a corner. “I can barely tell those little gelfling apart.” She watches them go, the chill seeping into her heated skin fully now. Her heart is still racing, still dangerously affected by his presence even though he is gone. Did that really just happen? Was this some sort of feverish dream? She remembers the feeling of his talons raking through her fur, and another shudder runs through her, different this time. She turns, and begins walking down the opposite hallway, pace quick so as to bring her to her chambers that much sooner.

If it is a dream, it is a pleasant one.


End file.
